


Frostbitten

by Theoroark



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, F/F, Implied Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-09-30 15:28:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17226596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Theoroark/pseuds/Theoroark
Summary: The first frost came well after the last harvest feast. The ice and cold made the Sugar Plum Fairy’s wings weak and brittle, and her magic wilted in the cold. Angela had no more reason not to depart for the Fae Wilds.But every year, she waited in the forest for white to start to creep through the roots of trees. Because every year, the Longest Knight would come galloping towards her, dismount her horse in a single swift, smooth motion, and sweep Angela up and kiss her.





	Frostbitten

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by @angelasrocket on twitter's amazing [Frostbite Pharah/Sugar Plum Mercy art](https://twitter.com/angelasrocket/status/1077698691333423105)\- Mariel you are so amazing & if you the reader aren't following her then what are you doing with your life?

The first frost came well after the last harvest feast. The ice and cold made the Sugar Plum Fairy’s wings weak and brittle, and her magic wilted in the cold. Angela had no more reason not to depart for the Fae Wilds.

 

But every year, she waited in the forest for white to start to creep through the roots of trees. Because every year, the Longest Knight would come galloping towards her, dismount her horse in a single swift, smooth motion, and sweep Angela up and kiss her.

 

“I missed you,” Fareeha would murmur into her neck. Angela would wrap her arms around her and marvel that a woman made of ice could make her feel so warm.

 

“I missed you too,” Angela would say. Then she would borrow deeper into Fareeha’s chest and Fareeha would fly up and take her to her cabin home and they would not talk anymore about how much they missed each other, because they had little time with one another and so much else they wanted to do.

 

Angela broke that tradition one year. She and Fareeha were lying in bed, she was half-drowsy in her post-coital daze. She had asked Fareeha about the blindingly white fur rug in front of the hearth, and Fareeha was telling her a story about how, when she was an irresponsible youth of just a few centuries, she had started a fight with the frozen wolves, and her mother had had to disguise her as one to spirit her away.

 

“I can’t quite see the Snowy Queen in retreat,” Angela had murmured. Fareeha had laughed, and Angela had relished how she could feel the vibrations on her cheek.

 

“That’s because you only see mum when she’s in court mode,” Fareeha said and that was true, Angela’s only experiences with the Queen were in royal gatherings in the Wilds, where dignitaries from every court met and fought and reconciled. “That fight, that was on my birthday. And so she didn’t scold me too much, either.”

 

“When’s your birthday?”

 

“The solstice,” Fareeha told her, and then they both realized the direction of the conversation, and fell silent.

 

“I wish I could be there,” Angela finally said, because she had so little time with Fareeha, she wanted to spend as much of it speaking with her as she could.

 

“I wish you could be too.” Fareeha moved on top of her, one arm holding her up and the other tangling in Angela’s hair. Fareeha’s weight was heavy on Angela’s hips and Angela thought wildly about Fareeha holding her down and them staying like this, safe and warm in bed, for the entire winter. 

 

But the court was waiting for Angela and the forest was waiting for Fareeha. And so Fareeha simply kissed Angela, long and slow, and asked her, “You like the rugshe And when Angela nodded, she had said, “Then let’s fuck there next,” and they did.

 

Neither of them cried when they said goodbye the next morning, because they only had minutes left until the next year, and did not want to waste them on tears. Angela cried only when Fareeha’s dim blue light had faded, and her tears would not freeze on her cheeks. But in the Fae Wilds, she stopped crying, and began to think. 

 

The Rime Fairy made her home between worlds, as she belonged truly to neither the winter or the wilds, and sought gossip from both. Angela felt the chill as she knocked on Sombra’s door, but was in discomfort rather than danger when Sombra threw the door open and wrapped her in a hug.

 

“It’s been too long,” she said. Angela giggled and blinked the cold mist that hung around her from her eyelashes.

 

“Maybe if you lived somewhere halfway decent,” Angela said, and Sombra swatted at her as she led her inside.

 

“You want hot chocolate, not coffee or tea,” Sombra said, and Angela gave a guilty nod in confirmation. Sombra trotted to the kitchen and flicked a blue flame on under a kettle. “That, I know,” she said. “What I don’t know is what you need.”

 

“I could just be here because I wanted to talk.”

 

“You write when you want to talk,” Sombra said, as she rummaged in her cupboards. “You visit when you need something. So. What do you need?”

 

Angela could not argue with that and so she asked, “How did you get your ice magic?” with no further lead up. Sombra turned from the cupboards.

 

“Why do you want to know?”

 

“Well, a quarter of the year, I’m trapped in the Wilds, it’s deadly for me to go out, can’t I just be curious?”

 

“Angela.” Sombra set a steaming cup of hot chocolate in front of her and sat across the table. “Really. Why?”

 

Angela looked down at her mug and mumbled, “I want to see a girl.” Sombra laughed.

 

“Of course. It’s always a girl.” Angela narrowed her eyes.

 

“Are  _ you  _ judging me?”

 

“Heavens no.” Sombra stood and grabbed a large book from the shelf, and opened it up on the table. Angela leaned over it and saw an old map. “This,” Sombra said, jabbing a finger at a mountain in the middle of a forest, “is the Winter’s Peak. And at its top is the cold fire, the magic that lets the Frost Folk live in the cold. I took a little for myself, and that’s how I grew to stand it.”

 

Angela frowned. “You just… took it?”

 

“Of course not,” Sombra said breezily. “It’s guarded by a Shivering Spirit, and I had to negotiate with him quite a bit to get him the little I got. But you.” She looked Angela up and down. “You have quite a bit of magic yourself, and could make him something quite nice, I’m sure.”

 

“Right,” Angela said, mentally running through a list of her best spells. She examined the map. The mountain was surrounded by miles of woods, sure to be thick with snow and ice. “How do I get there, though?” she asked.

 

“I had a guide, but I don’t think she’ll be able to help you. But–” And she tapped one glowing-blue finger to Angela’s nose. Angela batted her away.

 

“Sombra, what are you–“ Then she stopped as she looked down at her hands. Light blue light outlined her bones and shown through her skin.

 

“It’ll only last you through the night,” Sombra told her. “So you’ll have to hurry. But it will protect you from the cold, as you travel.”

 

“Tonight?” Sombra nodded. “I have to go now?”

 

“Do you have a reason to wait?” Sombra asked mildly. Angela looked down at the table, and her mostly full mug.

 

“No. I suppose not.”

 

She stood and turned to the door, but stopped when she felt Sombra’s hand on her shoulder. “You’ll be okay, Angela,” Sombra said gently. “Truly. I promise. And if you do get into a tight spot with some nasty type–“ Sombra fished in her pocket, and then placed a a purple disc in Angela’s hand. “This should help you out.”

 

Angela turned the disc over. “Is it a weapon?” she asked.

 

“No, it’s– it’s kind of hard to explain, I guess–“

 

“Do I eat it?” Angela lifted it up. Sombra slapped her arm down.

 

“Use it if you need it,” she said. “And go.” She pushed Angela, Angela made a face at her, and she walked out the door on her own power.

 

The sun was setting over the forest as Angela walked towards it. Her feet skated over the top of the snow, leaving only a slight depression, and creating no sound. Sombra’s magic kept her warm but she still shivered as the forest grew thick enough to cast shadows across the dimming sunlight. She had never gone deep into the woods in the winter, not without Fareeha. 

 

But the solstice was soon, and Sombra’s magic would only last the night. Angela walked faster.

 

The sun had fully set and the stars had not quite come out when she reached a frozen river. Angela paused before it, frowning. She could fly, but that took quite a bit of her magic, and she needed something to give to the Shivering Spirit. But she was not sure how thick the ice was, and the river was substantially wide.

 

“You there.” Angela started and spun to the sound of the voice. Downriver, she could just make out a hulking man, crouched on the ice with a fishing pole in his hands. “Come eat some soup,” the man said. When Angela hesitated, he snorted. “I know you’re there. I made far too much, you’re the first person I’ve seen all day, and it’ll all go to waste if I don’t eat it.” 

 

Angela had a day to get to the mountain, she did not want to offend, and Sombra had not fed her aside from the marshmallows in her hot chocolate. So she shuffled across the ice– if it was thick enough to hold the man, it must be thick enough for her– and sat down next to him. He was sitting with a bucket and pot on one side, and a thick coat on the other. He gestured to the pot. 

 

“Eat,” he said, and Angela took the ladle and ate. It was terribly bland and lukewarm, but she was quite hungry, and she dipped the ladle in for more.

 

“What’re you doing here?” the man asked. 

 

“I’m going to meet a friend,” she told him, and he snorted again.

 

“Your friend’s making you trek,” he said. “Tell ‘em to meet you at your place, next time.”

 

“She can’t,” Angela said. The man set his pole down and studied her.

 

“Who is this friend, anyway?”

 

Angela frowned. “What business of yours is it?” she asked, and he sighed.

 

“Just want to know if I’m gonna get in trouble. But you’re the first one to bite all day. So it doesn’t really matter, now does it?”

 

And with that he stood up, and stomped a giant foot down on the ice. Cracks spread out around his boot. Angela leapt up.

 

“What are you doing? We’ll both fall!”

 

“Yeah, we will,” the man said. He stomped his foot, grabbed his coat and slipped it on. The walrus selkie belly flopped onto the ice, creating large fissures. Angela backed up, but she was too far from the bank, and the ice was creaking– 

 

The selkie slammed down into the ice, it broke and splintered up into the air, and Angela spread her wings and flew. The selkie roared in anger and Angela flew as fast as she could, and did not look back.

 

She landed far from the river, where the forest was so thick that the canopy completely swallowed up the moon. Angela tucked her wings in, took a deep breath, and assessed her well of magic. Too little to make anything equal to the cold fire. She swore quietly and stood and as she did, the disc Sombra had given her dug into her hip.

 

“Of course,” she whispered, grabbing at it through her pocket. “God, Sombra, you had to be so obtuse about it, you were always so stingy with your things–“

 

She heard a crunch in the snow behind her and spun. She saw nothing but the shadows of trees, and Angela took the disc in her hand and began to walk towards the mountain, faster this time.

 

The soft noises behind her continued, though, and she could swear she saw forms dipping in and out of the shadows, in the periphery of her vision. She did not hear the panting until it was too late, though, and the wolves had broken from the trees and were galloping towards her. She ran but they were faster, and one tackled her and the disc fell from her hands. 

 

All the wolves stilled and Angela heard a woman say, “Where did you get that?”

 

She rolled on her back and saw, suddenly standing among the frost wolves, a tall woman with lavender blue skin, wearing a fine suit. She recognized her, vaguely, as a countess in the Winter Court. 

 

“A friend,” Angela told her, and the Countess rolled her eyes. 

 

“ _ Which  _ friend,” she said. One of the wolves took a step closer and Angela pushed herself back. 

 

“The Rime Fairy.”

 

“That’s not how her friends know her.”

 

Angela grit her teeth. “Sombra, then,” she said, and the Countess picked up the disc and sighed. 

 

“She could have given me warning,” she said under her breath, and then she looked back up at Angela. “No hunters will bother you while you’re here,” she said. Then the pack turned and the Countess began to walk away with them, still holding the disc. 

 

“Wait!” Angela called. “I need that!”

 

The Countess looked back at her, apparently untroubled. “It’s not yours,” she said. 

 

“I need to give it to the Shivering Spirit,” Angela tried. “For the cold fire.”

 

The Countess just laughed. “He has no use for this,” she said. Angela slunk down in the snow. 

 

“Can you help me at all?”

 

The Countess gave her a once over and said, “Tie your shoelaces. You look ridiculous, and you’re liable to trip.” Then she transformed into a great white wolf, and the entire pack loped off into the shadows. Angela stood, tied her laces around her calves, and continued towards the mountain, holding tight the little bit of magic she had left. 

 

She reached the mountain soon enough and though climbing, rather than flying, to its peak was annoying, Sombra’s magic kept her from slipping on the ice or flinching from the frozen rock. She made her way up steadily and reached the top as the moon was beginning to descend once more. There was a cavern, blue light spilling out of it. In front of it stood a granite golem with white frost across his body and a bright blue visor. He turned minutely to Angela as she approached. 

 

“By order of the Snowy Queen, none are allowed in the cavern,” he said to her. 

 

“I don’t intend to hurt the Shivering Spirit,” she said. He laughed, a stiff, creaking sound. 

 

“I’m not here to keep people away from him. I’m here to keep him away from people.”

 

Angela looked over his shoulder. The blue light flickered and crackled against the stone walls. “Please,” she said. “I need to see the cold fire.”

 

“I have my orders,” he said, and did not move. Angela looked past him once more, looked over her shoulder at the wide expanse of forest she had crossed. She took her last bit of magic in her hand, her last bargaining chip with the Shivering Spirit, and blew it at the golem. He was asleep before he hit the ground. The light of the cavern was unobstructed now and Angela, with no magic, no treasures, nothing to offer, walked inside. 

 

The light grew as she walked down the wide pathway and the cold fire was apparent as soon as it widened into a chamber. It sat in the middle of the room, burning brightly, dancing and sending shadows up the walls. But the second Angela took a step towards it, one of the shadows moved in a way wholly unlike the flickering flame. It moved deliberately towards her and then Angela could see the form of a long dark cloak, and a man made of the same blue light within it, walking towards her and trembling. 

 

“I only want a small piece,” Angela said softly. “Please.”

 

“What do you have to offer in return?” The Shivering Spirit asked. Angela looked to frozen ground. 

 

“Nothing,” she said, and the Spirit laughed, gravelly and cruel. 

 

“Nothing,” he repeated. “The last fairy who came, she used every trick your kind knows just to get past the Alpine guard. How did you slip past him, with nothing?”

 

Angela raised her chin mulishly because while this venture was looking more and more foolish, she was not unskilled. “I used the last of my magic to put him to sleep,” she said. At that, the spirit stilled. 

 

“He’s asleep?” he asked and Angela, suddenly wary, nodded. The Shivering Spirit looked between Angela and the path she had come down. “Tell you what,” he said slowly. “I’ll give you a piece of the fire, if you bring me the guard.”

 

“What are you going to do to him?” Angela asked. The spirit laughed again and Angela flinched. 

 

“If you talked with him, he gave you his little speech,” he said. “Well, I don’t want anyone keeping me in here anymore. So bring me the guard. Then you can take all the fire you want.” Then he fixed her in his black eyed stare and Angela headed back out the passage way, almost under his thrall. 

 

As she walked, she thought. The morning was coming soon. She did not have time to escape back to the wilds. She was choosing now, her life or the golem’s. And she brought the harvest, blessed the sick children of farmers, spread joy among them as best she could. And the Snowy Queen could surely make another guard. 

 

The golem was lying where she had left him. He was snoring softly. Angela knelt beside him and closed her eyes. She did not want to die. 

 

But she did not want to kill either. And she could not go to Fareeha as a murderer, and that meant more than any of her wants. 

 

Angela stood and walked past where the golem lay, to the edge of the mountain’s peak, and saw the rising sun. She could feel Sombra’s magic leaving her body, the chill coming in. Ice was climbing up her wings and her blood was going cold. 

 

“I’m sorry, Fareeha,” she whispered. “I just wanted to see you again.”

 

She was quickly growing weak and she knelt to the ground. As her vision went dark, she could swear she saw wings blot out the rising sun. 

 

-

 

When Angela woke, she was warm. A familiar kind of warm, she realized. She sat up and rubbed her eyes and when she looked down, she saw the quilt on Fareeha’s bed. She looked up. Standing at the foot of the bed, on the fur rug in front of the roaring fireplace, was the Snowy Queen. 

 

Angela began to push herself out of bed to bow, but the queen raised a hand. “No need,” she said, her feathered cape rustling as she walked to Angela’s bedside. “You’ve done plenty for me tonight, my dear.”

 

Angela frowned, confused. “Your majesty?”

 

“The Alpine guard,” the queen said. Her owl mask gave away nothing of her expression, but Angela felt instinctively that she was being thoroughly inspected. “I came to the mountain because I felt he was in trouble. When I arrived, he was incapacitated, but the Shivering Spirit had not laid a hand on him. And you were there. And so I imagine you had something to do with that.”

 

The queen did not specify which event she was laying on Angela’s shoulders, but Angela could not keep secrets under the weight of her golden eyes. “I’m sorry for putting him to sleep,” she blurted out. “But I try to make sure he would be safe, I did, but I’m sorry–”

 

The queen held up her hand again and Angela fell silent. “As I was saying,” the queen said. “He was untouched. And my daughter had told me about you. So I brought you back here.”

 

Angela sat back, resting her head against the wall. “Fareeha’s here?” she asked in a small voice. 

 

“She is,” the queen said. “And she was very reluctant to have me speak with privately. But. I am still her mother.” Angela laughed and the queen’s mask was still in place, but Angela could swear her golden eyes softened. “And I wanted to thank you, for your help.”

 

“It was my fault he was in trouble in the first place,” Angela pointed out. 

 

“Maybe,” the queen said. “But the Shivering Spirit did not kill him. And maybe that’s enough. And so. I want you to have this.”

 

And the Snowy Queen pulled a piece of cold fire out of her feather cloak. Angela looked between her outstretched palm and her, and the queen laughed quietly. “Go on,” she said. “You won’t be able to leave here without it, in any case, and I’m sure my daughter will tire of you as a house guest at some point.”

 

Angela reached out and took the cold fire from the queen’s hand. It burned, not like Sombra’s magic, which had felt like fire in her bones. This was throughout her entire body, an all-encompassing heat. She curled in on herself, shuddering, and then it passed. When she stretched out once more, she looked down at her hands, and saw they had a light blue tint now. 

 

“It suits you,” the queen said. 

 

“Thank you,” Angela said, when she had found her voice. The queen nodded and pulled her cloak around her. 

 

“I’ll go get my daughter now,” she said. “It was nice meeting you, Angela. I hope to see you on the solstice.” And with that, the Snowy Queen left, and Angela barely had any time to herself to make sense of what had happened before Fareeha came barreling into the room. She crawled across the bed to Angela, and Angela laughed and cupped her face. 

 

“You made it!” Fareeha said in a half-whisper. “And she gave you the fire! God, Angela, I was so terrified when I saw her carrying you, and I didn’t know if she would give it to you, I–”

 

“Fareeha,” Angela said softly, and Fareeha immediately quieted. “I’m here. I’m okay. And I can stay here, now.”

 

“You can.” Fareeha lay down and turned her head to look at Angela. “God, Angela, you can stay here forever.”

 

“Well. I can stay for winter. It’s still only a quarter of the year.”

 

“We used to only have a day,” Fareeha said. “So you know what? I’m going to just be happy about this.” Angela laughed and Fareeha rolled on her side, propping her head up on her arm, and smiled down at her. “Just think about it, Angela,” she said. “We have so much time now. Can you even imagine?”

 

Angela looked into Fareeha’s frost-silver eyes, imagined all of the winters they had to come, and kissed her. 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm @tacticalgrandma on twitter/tumblr if you want to talk to me there.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, and comments/kudos would mean the world to me <3


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